


The view's good from over here

by astano



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-18
Updated: 2011-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-24 03:03:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/258228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night out takes an interesting turn. Brittana with side (possibly one-sided unless I continue) Faberry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The view's good from over here

I knew this evening was a bad idea from the start. It was Puck’s way of commiserating our loss at Nationals, somehow he’d managed to procure fake IDs for everyone in glee club and insisted we all go out and let off some steam. And by ‘let off some steam’ he meant get blindingly drunk.

Most of the club had turned up and we had spent the last couple of hours gravitating between the bar, our booth and the dance floor. Currently, everyone but Santana and Brittany were crowded around the circular table we had claimed as our own and there were enough empties strewn around to indicate the current level of inebriation most of us were feeling. I was wedged in between Kurt and Mercedes, only half listening as they debated some article in some fashion magazine.

Rachel sat directly across from me and I was pretty sure she was still complaining to anyone who would listen about the lack of karaoke equipment this bar possessed. I’d done a double take earlier in the evening when, not only had she actually turned up, but was wearing somewhat normal clothes; she almost looked good. I’d told her as much, in an appropriately sarcastic way of course, and she rambled for at least two paragraphs about school clothes and date clothes and pretending to be twenty-one clothes and how she’d discovered it was important for her to attempt normal teenage activities on occasion. I pretty much tuned her out after the first ten seconds, merely sending a quick thank you up to the heavens for not forcing me to stare at some animal printed sweater for the whole evening. Not that I ever spent a great deal of my time staring at Rachel. Nope.

I was becoming bored and so began scanning the dance floor, grimacing at some of the atrocious moves on display. One guy looked like he hadn’t left the house since the late seventies and was currently pulling some _Saturday Night Fever_ moves in front of a girl who looked suitably unimpressed. I choked back a laugh and continued scanning the crowd.

My eyes fell on them accidentally, a streak of blonde momentarily lit up in the flashing lights. Half hidden behind one of the pillars and shrouded in almost darkness, they were dancing close, Brittany behind Santana, the full length of her body pressed flush against Santana’s back, her hands gripping the shorter girl’s waist as they moved.

As I watched, Santana reached her hand up above her head to grasp the back of Brittany’s neck, bringing her head down and whispering in her ear. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if Brittany was blushing as she almost imperceptibly shook her head.

I realised I’d been staring for what could probably be considered an inappropriate length of time, but damn if they didn’t look good together. Light and dark contrasting almost perfectly and, perhaps it was the alcohol in me, but I couldn’t help but think they would be a photographer’s wet dream.

Santana continued to speak directly into Brittany’s ear and whatever she was saying was obviously having an affect as I saw her hands spasm around Santana’s waist as she tried to draw her in closer. As my gaze shifted back up their bodies I caught the tail end of what was definitely Santana’s tongue tracing the whorls of Brittany’s ear.

My jaw dropped in tandem with Brittany’s. If I wanted to moan at merely the thought of someone doing that to me I could only imagine the sounds coming out of Brittany right now. I felt like I should look away. I really tried to turn my gaze in a different direction but my eyes were refusing to obey even the simplest of commands.

One of Brittany’s hands had begun a slow stroking motion across the bare skin of Santana’s stomach and I could actually see Santana’s chest rising and falling more rapidly as the hand snaked higher than was probably appropriate for a semi-public setting. Santana seemed to arch up into Brittany’s touch before suddenly spinning around and pinning her with a look the likes of which I’d never seen. It certainly had me shifting uncomfortably in my seat and I wasn’t even on the receiving end of it.

I had to stifle a gasp of surprise when I saw Santana reach up to drag Brittany into a fierce kiss. The alcohol had obviously made her bolder if she was willing to kiss Brittany out in the open – even if that ‘open’ was a dark, secluded corner of a nightclub dance floor.

Throughout all of this, their hips had never stopped swaying to the music and I marvelled at how, even as Brittany reached down to grip Santana’s ass, pulling her closer, they never missed a beat. Brittany did seem to falter for a split second though as Santana changed their positions slightly, slipping one thigh between Brittany’s legs. I was pretty sure my face was beet red as I realised they were practically dry humping on the dance floor.

Even as that thought crossed my mind, Brittany pulled back from the kiss, panting hard, hands clawing up and down the length of Santana’s back. As they moved impossibly closer together, I could see Brittany losing more and more of the rhythm, Santana’s guiding hands surely the only thing keeping her in time.

Brittany bent her head to say something that caused a wicked smirk to appear on Santana’s face. I watched a one of her hands left Brittany’s hip, travelling across her stomach and coming to rest above the waistband of her skirt.

Just before Santana manoeuvred their bodies so the pillar provided a little more cover, I saw her fingers dip below the waistband. Heat suffused me as I realised what they were about to do. My arousal battled with my conscience and won as I continued staring across the room.

Brittany’s head rested in the crook of Santana’s neck, her eyes screwed tight and her mouth slightly agape. Santana was leading in this dance, the one hand still on Brittany’s hip guiding them in time to the music, masking the subtle shift of Brittany’s hips as they rocked forward into Santana’s body.

I could see Santana’s grip tighten further as she moved her head, whispering into Brittany’s ear. Those hips began to speed up, thrusting into Santana with more force and, for a split second I wondered how no one else could have noticed what was going on.

That thought was shaken from my mind however, as I witnessed Brittany begin to tremble before stiffening and finally going limp in Santana’s arms.

The realisation of what I had just witnessed, my two best friends having sex, in public, not twenty feet away from me, finally penetrated my mind and I got up in a rush, pushing out from the table with barely an apology. I fought my way through the crowded club, pushing through into the, thankfully empty, bathroom.

Just as I bent down to splash cold water on my face, the door swung open again, revealing a mildly concerned Rachel Berry. I muttered under my breath, lamenting my luck that it was her, of everyone, who felt the need to come check on me.

In my current alcohol and arousal addled state this could be interesting.


End file.
